


Ring of Fire

by mcmachine



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M, Fire, Life-Affirming Sex, absolutely no maggie you're welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 22:52:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15423426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcmachine/pseuds/mcmachine
Summary: Alternative ending to Japril in 13x24. Absolutely no Maggie, no hints of the gag – I promise. 100% Japril friendly.





	Ring of Fire

There was no stopping the harsh coughs that forced themselves out of my throat, my body's way of trying to eliminate the smoke that I had already inhaled when it came to running back inside of the hospital. It had been dangerous. Risky. One thing that it had not been as well thought out. Given how many burn patients I had seen in my life, I knew exactly how dangerous they are given the proportion of them that came in with some kind of damage from smoke inhalation as well. The dangerous toxins irritated the respiratory system, the heat could damage the oropharynx. There was a long list of possible injuries that came along with it, and often, some of the damage may not have shown up until the next day or two. Immediate management and further monitoring were required. The number one cause of death related to fires was smoke inhalation.

That was all exactly what I would need, despite trying to deny it. I could feel it with the way that the cough wouldn't stop and the ache in my throat. My lungs needed oxygen, the tightness in my chest was a dead giveaway. Nearly stumbling over my own feet, I do my best to avoid a beeline and get straight to what I needed.

Easier said than done. Nothing these days was ever easy.

Anger was easy to see in April's eyes. She had always been an easy read for me, no matter what was going on, whether we were best friends, married, or more currently – divorced. She was rarely unclear with her emotions. Even if she wasn't always good at getting them out incoherent statements and sentiments, those hazel eyes always displayed exactly what she was feeling at the moment. Right now? Pure rage.

I didn't have to see her angry a lot in my life. During the divorce some, and in the immediate aftermath about her pregnancy when the two of us had gone back and forth with words and actions that should have never happened in the first place. I knew when she was angry, it was best to take a step back and let her be angry, not to try and belittle or disregard how she was feeling. This was one of those moments, though, where what she was feeling was actually enough to be just a bit frightening.

"You scared the crap out of me!" April yelled loudly, slapping my arm.

"Oh, I need some O2." Understatement of the year. But an oxygen mask is quickly placed over my face and I inhaled it greedily, trying to mollify the irritation inside of my respiratory tract.

"Yeah, of course, you do. That's what happens when you don't listen and instead, you inhale an entire hospital full of smoke!" So the yelling from her was not going to ease up quite so easily. I should have seen that coming from a mile away, but I hadn't thought about her reaction or anyone else's when I had gone looking for Steph. "Stupid heroics!"

I pulled the mask away to speak. "I was trying to help her." She pushed it quickly on my face again.

"You are a surgeon, not a firefighter!" She insisted emphatically.

"I wasn't trying to fight a fire, all right?!" A brief pause for air. "I was trying to save Edwards!" I reminded her quickly, my voice raising a little louder than what I intended.

"And what would I have told Harriet?!" There she was, playing that card.

"I'm fine, April!" I retorted quickly.

Of course, she had every right to play that card. I hadn't thought about her or Harriet, or anyone else for that matter, not even myself. The pain in my throat is a reminder of that as I breathe in oxygen as deeply as I can, filling my lungs up with it and hoping it would balance out the smoke that I had inhaled inside. I knew how she felt about smoke inhalation. Ever since she had lost that woman right at the beginning of the hospital merger and been fired, it had been one of those things that she was extra cautious about. And now I was the one with it. It was hard to blame her for being pissed at me, even if it was inconvenient at the moment.

She pushed at my arm again, but this time, there's not the same energy or anger behind her. My brows furrowed as I looked at her for just a moment. There was a sparkle in her eye – not the bright kind that I liked to see, but instead, just a glimmer of moisture there that I knew wasn't caused by the harsh circumstances. She was upset with me. Of course she was. Tables turned, I would have been furious at her for doing what I did.

"I'm fine," I insisted once more. "I promise." Shifting to hold the oxygen mask with my left hand, my right reached over toward her shoulder and set it on it, giving her a gentle squeeze.

"Don't look at me like that when I'm mad at you," April shook her head. "I can't lose you, Jackson. Harriet can't either." Our daughter brought up again, she was making it clear that this was about more than the two of us. But the exhaustion in her made me think otherwise, just for a moment.

"I know that," I nodded slightly. "But I'm fine. I promise. I was just doing what I thought was right."

"Let me look at your throat." April shifted the subject away for a moment.

I complied, pulling the mask away from my face for a moment and slouching down so the height difference between us wouldn't be quite an issue, opening my mouth wide as she pointed her penlight into it to examine for any soot or other damage on the inside. She took her time. I didn't think it was that bad – no, I was pretty sure that she was just being overly thorough with me.

She pulled back, grabbing my hand and placing the oxygen mask over my face again. Lingering for just a moment, her hand remained on top of mine, just a little cooler. Her gaze did not meet my own, but I could still see the moisture there.

"You're lucky that it's not worse," she remarked with a disapproving shake of my head.

"I know," I muttered. "I told you, I'm fine."

"I mean it when I say that I can't lose you." There's a slight pause where I expect her to bring up our daughter for the third time, but she doesn't. "I can't and I won't. Will you sit down, please?"

Nodding my head and not wanting to make any more of a fuss about it than what she already had, I moved over to sit down, keeping the oxygen mask to my face the entire time. It eased some of the aches in my head – oxygen deprivation, no doubt. Breathing in smoke wasn't always the toxins or whatever that killed you, sometimes it was just the fact that it took up space where oxygen should have been. It could lead to a killer headache, literally.

"Sit a minute," I patted the space next to me. "You've been working all night."

April looked at me like she was debating whether or not it was appropriate, chewing at the flesh of her lower lip. But she took a deep breath before nodding, sitting down next to me. There was no space between us, my thigh right up against hers, even if she stayed sitting straight.

"They evacuated the daycare. All of the kids are fine, Harriet included. I already checked." She informed me. I nodded my head. It had been easy to assume Harriet was okay. April would have made it clear otherwise.

"Good," I murmured, placing my hand on her knee. "See? I'm fine, she's fine, you're fine. The three of us are all going to go home together and we'll be fine. Incomings and our most critical patients have already been moved over to Seattle Pres, right? I thought I heard someone talking about that." I asked, eyebrows raising.

"Yes." April pushed the mask on my face once more and I gave her half a smile. "I know we're fine. That doesn't make what you did any less terrifying, Jackson. You could have died."

"I didn't." I reminded her.

"I know that, but that doesn't change how I feel right now, okay?" She snapped.

For a moment, I don't say another word to disagree with her. Instead, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her frame in against me. April didn't put any resistance up, leaning into me and her head finding the crook of my shoulder. Even if standing up I was much taller than her, when we sat down, it was just the perfect difference in our heights that her head fits perfectly. It was almost like puzzle pieces. I hadn't thought about that since the divorce papers had been finalized and signed, though. Some thoughts were better left buried.

"I'm sorry that I scared you, April." I finally murmured after a few silent seconds had passed. "I am."

"You should be." Her words were muttered just a little bit, turning her face into me further. I could feel her nose press against my neck, breathing against me. I focused on both of us for a moment, matching each inhale and exhale of my own to hers.

"Why don't we go pick up Harriet and go home, okay? How's that sound?" I asked.

"Yeah, okay." She agreed.

She sat there for a moment longer before standing up. I took a few more deep breaths from the oxygen mask as I stood up to follow her, keeping my arm wrapped around her shoulder. It's closer than we had been lately, admittedly. Since Montana, we hadn't talked a lot about our feelings. That was probably my fault. I never talked a lot about them.

April knew where things were set up and I followed her to get Harriet. When she picked our little girl up, she held her with a certain ferociousness, like a real mama bear, one that I didn't see from her very often. I knew that she was still upset even if she wasn't talking about it directly. It might have been a better conversation to have at home. I could wait for that. I kissed both of my girls on the tops of their forehead, letting her drive home at her own insistence. She was still worried about me, I could tell.

It was the middle of the night which meant that it wasn't a long drive at all to get back at our house. It did mean that Harriet was a little cranky given everything that happened, just like her mother. Those two really were one and the same.

Of course, it also meant that she went down for the night without a problem. I let April put her down, standing in the doorway and watching for a few minutes. I only finally stepped away from the two of them when a fierce cough came back, not wanting the noise to wake Harriet up if she was on the edge of falling asleep. That would have just ended up with all of us annoyed. I drank a cold glass of water, hoping it would help.

"Hey," I caught her before she could go back to her bedroom. "Can we talk?"

"About what?" April questioned, blinking at me.

"Tonight," I started. "And anything else, if uh, there's something else that you want to talk about." A little suggestive in my tone, thinking it might spark a little something else in her.

"You scared the crap out of me, Jackson. I don't know how many other ways that I can say that." She commented with a shake of her head, pushing her hair back out of her eyes before folding her arms in front of her ribcage as she looked up at me.

"I'm sorry, April. I didn't mean to do that to you." I wet my lips as I spoke. "Trust me, I don't want to leave you or Harriet behind. That's not my intention." Far from it. I was the one who had begged her not to move out when she had suggested it, after all. I needed her just as much as I needed Harriet. There was no doubt or question about it.

Her head dropped, staring down at the hardwood floor. "I wish I could say something more than you scared me. I… I know that it's not my place," she paused, wetting her lips.

"What do you mean it's not your place?" I questioned, brows furrowing.

"We are divorced. There's distance between us and I have been a big proponent of that distance so I should be the last one throwing it away. It's my place to still be acting like your wife or your girlfriend." Her brows were knitted together, lips pressed into a thin line. It didn't hide the frown.

"April, that doesn't mean anything." I shook my head, stepping closer to her. She began to look up at me. "That's just paperwork, okay? I'm pretty sure that it means we shouldn't have slept together when we were in Montana, or that you shouldn't have been there for me in the way that you were with my father, but… you were. And I'm personally glad that you were. I wouldn't have wanted anyone else there with me, okay? Papers don't have to define us or our relationship."

"So what are we, then? What defines us?" April asked.

I took a deep breath, releasing it loudly. "I don't know," I admitted. "I really don't."

Her arms fell from being wrapped around her waist to rest back by her sides. I took advantage of it for a moment, stepping forward and wrapping my arms firmly around her, pulling her back in again. Here, my head rested on top of hers. Puzzle pieces, again.

"I don't know what you are to me, April. Not every definition of it. I know that you're my best friend and my person. I know that you're the mother of my child. I know that I don't want to lose you and I don't want you to have to lose me, either." I started, taking a deep breath. "And I know that I'm sorry for scaring you, I am. Because I love you. I don't want to hurt you or to scare you."

"I love you too, Jackson," April muttered against my chest.

Even though the two of us had fallen into bed together when we had spent that night in the hotel room in Montana as one, we hadn't exchanged words like that since. She hadn't said it to me since the divorce. The last time I had said it, she had been unconscious after giving birth to Harriet. I had said it but she hadn't heard it. This time, it was loud and clear, an obvious declaration to make sure that she knew absolutely everything that I felt for her.

"We can figure this out, okay?" I murmured.

"As long as you don't go running into any more stupid fires." She replied, hitting my arm playfully.

"Ow," I complained. "I'm not going to do that. Not to you, or to Harriet. I love you both too much."

We stood there for a moment longer and I held her tight, giving her a little squeeze and breathing her in. She smelled of smoke. I did, too, I knew that. We both needed a shower.

"I still can't believe that you did that," she muttered. I could feel her shake her head.

"I thought women were supposed to be attracted to men willing to run into fires?" I teased.

"I'm attracted to when you're you. Which includes you being alive and not crispy."

"That's just wrong," I laughed anyway.

"Nothing is wrong with honesty." She disagreed.

I rubbed my hand up and down her back. "How about we go take a shower?" I suggested.

"Yeah, because you stink." April pulled away from me slightly. A smile had begun to soften her features and for that I was grateful. I hated worrying her, but mostly because I hated to see her worry. She did it more than enough when she didn't even have to.

"Hey, so do you." I pointed out.

"Well, I was going to let you join me, but now I'm kind of thinking that I shouldn't." She raised her brows.

"Oh, come on." I pouted at her playfully, my hands falling to the curve of her hips. My thumbs rubbed little circles there, slightly pushing up the material of her shirt, falling into old habits far too easily. "Don't be mean."

Much to my chagrin, it doesn't take much to convince her to let me join her in the shower. Joining her means that the shower ties much longer than it would have normally for either of us, all too easily distracted and enamored by the soft curves of her body, pulling her in close. I get on my knees and let her know just how sorry I am as she quivered above me, nearly losing her balance and catching herself on both my head and the soap dish. It doesn't matter. I'm reminded of just how much it doesn't matter the second that I sink into her. She's reminded, too.

We take our time reacquainting ourselves. It was different than Montana. Montana had been the heat of the moment passionate, meaningful though not well thought out. This was both. Obsessively thinking and worshipping her, making sure that she knew I was worry and fine. It was clear just how much each one of us needed each other. It was completely mutual.

"I love you so much, April. You and no one else." I murmured as we laid in my bed together, both naked, her curled up against my chest. Her head rested on top of it, clearly listening to my heartbeat.

"I love you too, Jackson. I do." She murmured, pressing a kiss against my peck. "Don't go anywhere."

"I won't."


End file.
